


I Bet

by illhaveapepperonytogoplease



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Irondad, Marriage Proposal, Pepperony - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), a few spoilers but nothing major, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 10:16:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19227127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illhaveapepperonytogoplease/pseuds/illhaveapepperonytogoplease
Summary: Slightly AU; how it should've gone for Tony and Pepper's relationship and family, set about twelve years after Endgame. Mostly just Stark family fluff and cuteness.





	I Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm straight up refusing to believe the ending of Endgame, so I wrote this to deal with my depression because this is how it should've gone, at least in my head. The main AU parts are Tony being alive, he and Pepper are still together but not married, and they had twin boys a few years after Endgame. I hope all you readers have a magnificent day, thanks for taking time to read this :)

“What do you mean your parents aren’t married?” Danielle asks incredulously, her eyes wide with shock, fork frozen on its way to her mouth.

“What do _you_ mean ‘what do you mean your parents aren’t married’?” Morgan shoots back, her mouth also open slightly, dark eyebrows furrowing at her best friend of more than half her life. “My mom goes by her maiden name, Dani, why do you think that is?”

“She-I just thought...Pepper Potts sounds better than Pepper _Stark_ -why don’t you and your brothers have a hyphenated name? Why does she wear a ring? Why-is this some sort of sick joke? They’re _not_ married?”

“No,” Morgan laughs, thinking about her parents who’re the most in love, highly dysfunctional individuals in the universe, and how long her mother had blatantly refused to marry her father. “She wears a ring that’s got all our birthstones and-well-she and Daddy might not have been married but they were gonna stay together forever so there was no point in complicating everything by naming me Morgan Stark-Potts.”

“But before-before Thanos-I thought...I know there’s footage somewhere of him proposing to her at a press conference,” she says.

“Well Daddy’s proposed about a billion times and that press conference was all a setup anyway.”

“He’s proposed a _billion_ times?” She asks, her voice rising in pitch. “And she’s turned him down?”

“Yeah, but it never-well, it might’ve been serious at some point but it turned into a joke like ‘Hey, Pep, if I can shoot this napkin into the trash can, we’re getting married’ or ‘Honey, I just made you dinner, marry me.’ It was like a game he’d play with her.”

“But-...” Danielle trails off. “I just...I- _wow_ …”

Morgan laughs again, not realizing that this news-that was actually somewhat trivial to her-was going to be such a bombshell for her friend. Honestly, the entire concept of marriage had been confusing for her since she was little; what was the point of a ring and a certificate in a country with a fifty percent divorce rate? If two people mutually loved each other, then they just...did. Making it “official” and getting the state government involved seemed like such a hassle.

“How’d he do it?”

“What?” She asks, waiting patiently as Danielle takes another bite.

“Propose, bonehead. If she’s said no so many times, why’d she say yes?”

“Oh they...there was this stupid bet they made.”

“Your parents are getting married because of a _bet_?”

“Well, I’m not too sure, but I have a hunch that they might- _might_ -love each other, also,” she says sarcastically, earning a glare from Danielle. “I don’t think me and the boys were just a test to see if they were compatible.”

“Smart ass. So what’s the wedding going to be like? Big? Small? I mean, it’s a Stark wedding, it’s gonna be the wedding of the century, right?”

“I don’t know about _that_ , they’re being weird about it...they’ve mentioned some building in Malibu and a rooftop wedding but I don’t see the appeal of it. There’s probably sentimental reasons or something.”

“Maybe they had sex on-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” she warns, closing her eyes and grimacing at the thought of her parents doing it on a rooftop-or anywhere, really.

“What?” She laughs innocently. “It would be just like your dad to do that.”

“Yes, and that’s what scares me, stop it. I like to think I just...magically appeared here and they’ve never-”

“Your mom had a massive hickey on her neck _last week_ , what-”

“It was from a curling iron!” Morgan defends, voice rising desperately, not wanting to think of what happened in her house when her parents were home alone.

“ _Curling_ iron? No. Iron _Man_? Yes.”

“Listen, as much as I’m enjoying your infatuation with my parents’ sex life, I have to go get the twins from karate,” she says, glancing down at her watch and realizing that she’s already running about five minutes behind. 

“It’s only ‘cause _you_ have no sex life,” Danielle says, rolling her eyes as she looks at her for a second, adding. “Prude.”

“I’d love to see you bring a boyfriend home when your father is Tony Stark.”

“Excuses, excuses,” she waves her hand dismissively.

“I’m serious, he’s impossible-but I gotta go. See you in English tomorrow, don’t forget about the quiz,” Morgan says, standing up to put her binder and papers in her backpack.

“I will if I don’t manage to accidentally kill myself in culinary arts. I swear, Morgan, those knives are weighted specifically so they can take my finger off,” she says conspiratorially, sounding like she believed every word.

Morgan can’t help but laugh as she opens the door to her friend’s house, walking out and calling, “That’s how Mom lost the bet-bye!”

\------

_Stark Home, Tuesday Night_

“He’s a kid, Pep, he-”

“He’s thirty years old, Tony,” Pepper says, taking carrots out of their bag and placing them on the cutting board.

“I was still a kid at thirty,” he defends, crossing his arms petulantly, as if he’s still a kid now, making both Morgan and her mom roll their eyes.

“Peter is a lot more mature than you,” she assures, pausing her chopping of carrots, looking him up and down once with a wholly unamused look. “Even now.”

“He nearly lost an arm, I don’t care if he’s _sixty_ -”

“Listen, honey, I know you care about him and I do too, but demanding he be suspended from field duty for a month because he didn’t report his injury to you is simply...beyond comprehensible,” she says, finishing up the carrots as she waits for his counterargument.

“Pepper,” he whines, obviously not enjoying that she’s not seeing from his side of things. “Imagine if Morgan got in a car wreck and never told us-only instead of a car wreck, it was a terrorist who tied a bomb to her chest and locked her in a concrete box of a room in the middle of the desert.”

“Oh was that the explosion at the factory outside of Tehran?” Morgan asks, suddenly interested. She’d read the story and figured SHIELD had something to do with it; the press knew so little about the event that all they could do was speculate with ambiguous terms and a blurry image of a flying person above the flaming building.

“Yeah, you can thank Iran, once again, for harboring terrorists,” he replies bitterly as her mom adds, “That’s why everyone is being so tightlipped about the explosion; it wasn’t a factory, it was a terrorist cell-and an extremely important one at that.”

“And he blew the place up?” She asks, confused. She knew Peter extremely well, he was a mix of a cool older brother/cousin/uncle type deal and it wasn’t his style to blow places to smithereens.

“No,  _that_ was the bomb he failed to tell me they had strapped to his chest.” He sounds more hurt at the fact that Peter didn’t tell him, rather than concern about the bomb or whatever injuries resulted from it.

“Daddy, I’m sure he-”

“You don’t get to join her side on this one, Morgan,” he says, not at all meaning what he said, knowing full and well that she always picked the side of reason, which means he was certainly being unreasonable.

“I think it’s cute that you’re so worried-” She begins, only to be interrupted by Pepper’s prim “Nothing about your father is _cute_ , Morgan” as she purses her lips “-but like Mom said, he’s an adult.”

“Kid, you’re seventeen and I still worry about you tripping over your shoelaces.”

“That’s because you’re a perpetual worrywart, Tony, which is irrelevant given that Peter is fine and only needed nine stitches. Now, while I may be a little shocked he didn’t tell us, I would never go to the Director of SHIELD and demand that he be taken off the payroll for three weeks,” Pepper replies, moving to the kitchen sink as she takes out potatoes and begins to peel them under hot water.

“SHIELD has a mandatory leave time for injuries, he would’ve had to take off anyway,” he responds, taking the bowl of chopped carrots and mixing in peas and corn.

“Like anyone takes that seriously,” she scoffs, eyeing him once again. “Your heart stopped- _twice_ -after the snap and you were in a press conference one week later, I don’t want to hear it from you.”

“But-”

“You’re putting him in time out-you haven’t even put your _sons_ in time out for a few years.”

“Well that’s because they’re little angels,” he says, laughing heartily at the downright appalled look both of the girls give him. The Stark twins, no matter how much they loved them, were, well...rambunctious troublemakers that reminded Pepper a little too much of a younger Tony. Only there were two of them. Without fully developed brains. “They’re a handful” was an understatement, especially when their idea of fun at ten years old was dismantling every object with a wire they came into contact with.

“Honey, he didn’t tell you because he knew you’d react like this.”

“I have every right to react like this!” He exclaims, hands thrown up in exasperation. “There’s a grand total of five people- _five people_ , Pep-five people in the entire _universe_ that I feel obligated to protect at all costs and he just happens to make the shortlist, so sue me for wanting to keep him safe.”

“Yes and no matter how cute that might be,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile, looking at Morgan as if to say ‘see, he is not cute’, “your feeling of obligation to us does not mean you get to be in control.”

“Hey now, who said you were on the list?” He asks, his lips curling up mischievously. “This is a highly exclusive, very important person to the one and only _Iron Man_ list we’re talking about here, Miss Potts.”

Morgan just watches them argue because their bickering-the light banter like this-was the way they’d always flirted, ever since she was young. Her dad’s looking at her mom right now like she’s the center of his world, and yet they were both being immature, petty little bitches, having an argument because that’s simply how they communicated. She’s actually surprised that her first words weren’t ‘Tony Stark, I swear to God, you are the most arrogant, unbearable, chauvinistic bastard in the world’ for as often as her mother said it.

“Who’s replacing me?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Rhodes?”

“ _He’d_ probably agree to marry me.” He states matter-of-factly, getting a passionate eye roll from his better half.

“That would certainly complicate things, wouldn’t it?” She asks lightheartedly, suddenly cursing a phrase that makes him turn his head in surprise and watch as she drops the potato she’d been peeling and stick a bleeding finger into her mouth.

“What the hell did you do?” He asks as he walks next to her, a tired concern lacing his words because she was always getting hurt in the kitchen-not once, Morgan is 90% sure of it, had she made something and not wound up with a cut or burn or quietly muttered “fuck.”

She had the suspicious feeling that her parents actually had no idea how to cook food and made everything up as they went along in order to feed their kids something other than pizza and Chinese takeout.

“It-” She begins with her finger still in her mouth, which Tony pulls out to examine, completely ignoring any concept of personal space as he looks at it; their faces are so close, they’re nearly kissing. “Caught on the peeler.”

“Well, champ,” he looks down at the finger, which has a small cut oozing blood, but certainly doesn’t look serious. It had probably just shocked her and stung under the hot water. “I think we’re gonna get through this.”

“Are you sure I don’t need to take a month off work?” She asks, the airy, mocking worry of her voice making Morgan snort.

“Please do, we could plan a wedding in that much time,” he says, his expression changing to one of shock at her pointed look. “What?! It’s a sign! I’m saying we should be married and you get a cut on your ring finger?! I’m no conspiracy theorist but-”

“Wedding rings go on your left hand, you moron,” she says, rolling her eyes as she steps out of the space they’d been sharing so she can put a paper towel on her finger.

“Ah well, I wouldn’t know. The woman I keep asking always turns me down.”

“It’s nothing personal,” she says, patting his chest reassuringly and Tony looks at his daughter with an incredulous expression.

“Oh sure, the love of my life won’t marry me but it’s not personal,” he says, pointing a thumb at her and giving Morgan a ‘get a load of this guy’ look.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re being _cruel_.”

“Drama queen.”

“Witch.”

“Princess,” she sticks her tongue out at him like a child.

“Evil stepmother,” he counters, before he snaps his fingers excitedly, a hopeful look on his face. “How about this-I make a bet with you; I win, we get married, you win, I’ll never ask again.”

“Daddy,” Morgan whines, “you can't stop proposing, it’s-”

“Don’t you dare say cute, Morgan Stark,” her mother warns dangerously before she turns to Tony. “What’s the bet?”

“I bet you won’t marry me,” he says, raising his eyebrows in an ‘AH, gotcha!’ moment before he shakes his head, saying, “I’m kidding; I bet you can’t go a week without hurting yourself in the kitchen.”

Morgan laughs, ignoring the glare she receives as she says, “You might as well just change your name now, Mom.”

“I do not-” she cuts herself off, looking utterly betrayed as her boyfriend/lover/partner/father of her children and daughter team up against her. “I do not hurt myself that often.”

“You dropped a frying pan on your foot this morning,” Morgan points out but it falls on deaf ears.

“I accept,” Pepper turns to Tony, her hand outstretched, blindly believing she can take on this challenge. Tony takes her hand and pulls her in for a quick kiss, sealing the deal, before he says, “It’s on. You need a bandaid for that?”

“No, I’m done in the kitchen,” she says, patting his cheek affectionately before walking out of his embrace. “You can finish making dinner.”

“That’s _cheating_ , you can’t just avoid the kitchen for the next week,” he tries to grab her as she moves around the kitchen island to sit at the table, but she just barely manages to escape his hands with a girlish giggle.

“Watch me,” she challenges. “I’ll call Peter in to do all the cooking; he’ll gladly help me win this, Tony, you’re not on his good side right now.”

Their banter continues in the same fashion it had been and she wonders why they even needed to get married officially when they were practically already married.

Morgan tries to gauge how serious they are about the bet because it didn’t sound particularly serious but her mom might  follow through with her threat to have Peter make meals for them because she’s  pretty adamant, for whatever reason, that she was never going to marry Tony Stark. 

She never really understood it; they obviously loved each other and that was that. Sure, being married didn’t really _do_ anything in the sense that their feelings changed significantly, but vehemently refusing to marry the man you had three kids with? That didn’t make a lot of sense, either. Morgan assumed her mother had made some blood oath where she’d have to give up her firstborn child or something if she married Tony, because she just...downright _refused_. And if either of her parents seemed like the type to push for marriage, it was definitely her mother, but her dad had spent her entire childhood making proposals only to be turned down each time. Vaguely, she remembers an overheard conversation between her and Aunt Wanda-no one on the Avengers team could understand it, either-and Pepper saying, quite simply, “I swore I’d never marry that man.” And Morgan knew her dad wasn’t particularly hurt by her rejections; they lived together, they loved each other, they had three kids, and if he was _actually_ suffering from their lack of marital status, she knew her mom would give in and give him what he wanted to make him happy.

“I’ll call him right now,” her mother is saying as she tunes back in to their conversation.

“Do it then,” he dares, turning the water off as he’s now done peeling the potatoes.

She stands to get her phone off the counter, unlocking it and pulling Peter’s contact up, putting the call on speaker and giving Tony a hard ass look as it rings.

“Hello?” Peter picks up.

“Hey, Peter, I need you to do me a favor,” Pepper begins sweetly, playing with her hair, examining the strawberry blonde locks for split ends. “I know, courtesy of Tony, you can’t really work right now. You want to get payback?”

“It...depends?” He asks, his voice rising in uncertainty.

“We made a bet, and if I lose, I have to marry him,” she says casually, as if this is something normal people often do.

“Oh-um-sure?” He doesn’t sound too sure, at all. “What do I have to do?”

“Come over a couple times this week to make dinner,” she sticks her tongue out at Tony when Peter agrees, although he’s sounding very uncertain. “Thanks, Peter.”

“No problem, but-why don’t you just marry him?” He asks and now it’s her father’s turn to gloat as he mouths a ‘HA!’ and points two fingers at her in triumph, which subsequently gets one of her middle fingers pointed up at him.

“It’s Tony,” she says as if it’s obvious and he rolls his eyes, mocking her as he scrunches up his face and mouths ‘It’s Tony.’

“But you have-okay, never mind. What time should I come over?”

“Anytime is good, we’ll eat around you,” she says conversationally, adding, “How’re you healing?”

“The stitches are already out. Mr. Stark overreacted.”

“Yes,” her mother looks Tony, who’s wearing an expression of indignant shock, up and down once, “He does that.”

“Do you have any preferences for food? Do the boys like-” Pepper, halfway through his questions, leans back more comfortably on the kitchen counter and puts her hand right on the stove, resulting in a pain-filled hiss as she quickly fans it, the realization of what she’s done hitting about a second later when Tony and Morgan sit up, mouths open in shock at how _quickly_ the bet went to shit “-chicken or steak better? And is-”

“Peter-can-” she swallows hard, looking between them with wide eyes and her voice shakes “-can I, uh, call you back? I-there’s something on the stove.”

“Yeah-yeah-I’ll talk to you later, Pepper. Enjoy dinner and tell everyone I say hi!” He hangs up and the three stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“That wasn’t even five minutes, Pep,” Tony’s voice sounds rougher-emotions caught in his throat-and disbelieving as he walks up to her, taking her hand to examine the burn; once again, it wasn’t bad, a little red, but not blistering or angry like other burns of hers had been in the past but he gives it a gentle kiss nonetheless.

“Who turned on the stove?” She asks accusingly, obviously not being able to cope with the fact that she’s going to get married. “Why do you need th-what are you doing?” She stops and Morgan cranes her neck from the kitchen table to see her father rooting around underneath one of the drawers, emerging with a black box that had probably been hidden there for God knows how long. She squeals excitedly because while he’s proposed before, they were always taken as jokes because there was never a ring but _now there’s a ring_.

“Pepper,” he begins, taking her hand and she shakes her head, one hand covering her mouth.

“Don’t-” she begs, quietly, her voice quivering “-don’t you _dare_ get on your knee, Athony, I swear to _God_.”

Her father, rarely having ever listened to his significant other, ignores the tearful plea and gets down on one knee, opening the box to show off a sparkling engagement ring. “Pepper-”

“Get up right now, I’m going to cry.” It’s too late for that; her eyes are already red and there’s no going back.

He tries again, “Virginia Marie Pot-”

“Tony, I’m serious,” she says, her voice a whisper and at the little tearful hiccup, Morgan feels tears welling in her own eyes for some inexplicable reason and she isn’t sure where to focus them-she doesn’t want to _not_ watch, but she doesn’t want to invade their privacy. Even though it was their own damn fault they’d decided to have the proposal in the middle of the kitchen with their seventeen year old daughter watching. “ _Please_ get up-I-”

“Honey?” He asks, an air of amused, affectionate frustration surrounding the word. “Shut up.” He kisses the inside wrist of the hand he’s holding before asking, simply, “Will you marry me?”

Morgan holds her breath along with her father as Pepper stares at him, obviously unsure as to how exactly she’d wound up turning a regular Tuesday night into the most serious proposal of her life, before the tiniest nod in the History of Nods and a little “Okay” escapes her.

Her dad’s on his feet again before she can blink, picking his soon-to-be wife up in glee as he squeezes her tightly against him, her eyes shut with many unreadable emotions playing across her face. He just holds her there for a second, both of them in shock and nothing short of tearfully happy, as he murmurs something quietly to her and presses a kiss under her ear. Morgan averts her eyes when they kiss a little too soundly for their audience, not wanting to see _that_ , and when she looks back, he’s helping her put the engagement ring on her finger.

She figures that’s a decent enough time to join them in teary hugs and forehead kisses, wrapping her arms around her dad, who’s most definitely trying not to cry, before looking at her mom's hand to inspect the ring.

It’s fairly simple, by billionaire standards, but elegant and beautiful as it shone on Pepper’s thin finger, the diamonds getting caught in the light.

“So, seriously, why wouldn’t you marry him?” Morgan asks, hugging her mom close. “How many bets are you losing?”

“I-” she begins, wiping a stray tear away from her eyes “-that’s not-there’s a few-but that’s not why I wouldn’t-its a long explanation.” She goes quiet and Morgan interprets ‘a long explanation’ as ‘none of your business, young lady’ and doesn’t continue pushing the topic, rather just hugging her mom close before she hears an entirely unamused “Tony, what in God’s name are you _doing_?”

Morgan looks up to see that her father has pulled the stove out of its place in between the cabinets, searching behind it for something as he says, voice slightly muffled because he’s not facing them, “I’m trying to figure out what brand this is-I’m going to give them half my fortune; this thing-” he hits the top of the stove the same way a man hits the top of an old car he loves “-is the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”


End file.
